


Don't You Forget About Me

by orphan_account



Category: Bleach
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Body Switches, Bullying, Everyone Is Alive, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Kimi no Na wa AU, M/M, Rough Kissing, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 06:01:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15943241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Don't forget my name, Soul Reaper, and you better pray that you never hear it again! Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez...because the next time you hear my name, you'll be a dead man...I promise.”Heforgot. At least, in this other life, Ichigo Kurosaki has never met anyone called by this name.But time and space are a complicated matter, made of braided cords stretching the bonds of reality. They converge and take shape. They twist, tangle, sometimes unravel, break, and then connect again.In this other life, comes a day when Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez finds himself staring into a reflection of eyes not his own.Soon, the pair find their paths intertwined by a mysterious occurrence: they have begun to switch places. Separated by space, connected by fate. Until someday, it hits them, and they remember the myriad realities flowing through their minds.





	Don't You Forget About Me

**Author's Note:**

> I recently watched 'Your Name' and I absolutely loved it so I was heavily inspired by this movie to write this AU! Lately, I've also been re-reading Bleach and my grown-ass almost bought a whole shelf of several volumes at the local bookstore, under the horrified gaze of my friends, I absolutely regret NOTHING.
> 
> ~~Be aware that I am not a native english speaker.~~
> 
> **/!\ DISCLAIMER /!\ I do not own Bleach and its characters, Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo.**

 

 

Sometimes, even when he's walking in the middle of the street, Ichigo Kurosaki feels like he's still dreaming. Of distant memories, or another life, he's not quite sure. The only thing he knows, is that something is missing now that he's awake.

Lost in thought, he crashes into someone else. Ichigo lifts his head to stare blankly at a large pink face with two watery porcine shaped eyes.

“Watch your step, carrothead!” the boy spits at him with a high-pitched maniac laugh and he splays his huge fingers in front of him and pushes on Ichigo’s chest, the violence of the shock knocking him off his balance and Ichigo falls backwards.

“What are you going to do now? Cry like a pussy? Mama’s boy!”

He truly is, so he doesn’t feel insulted. Ichigo’s mother is the brightest, the smartest and the kindest soul and she's the light of his life.

Loud guffaws ensue, echoing all around him. His body is pinned on the ground when several other teenagers kick him in the stomach and in the back before walking away towards the school.

The edges of Ichigo’s vision start to shrink and tremble.

If he can’t protect himself directly, no matter how much he wants to, then he won’t be able to protect anyone, especially not his mother neither the rest of his family.

“I’m-“ he swallows hard, his throat suddenly aching. “I’m so weak,” Ichigo whispers as he wipes a tear at the corner of his eye.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

When Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez wakes up, the first thing he feels is intense pain from falling off a ridiculously too-narrow bed.

He feels a wet substance on his cheek and catches a tear in his palm. What the fuck? He  _never_  cries.

With a groan, he picks himself up off the floor... Wooden floor? He doesn’t have wooden floor in his room.

What the hell?

Maybe the stash he had last night, was stronger than he has thought. Nnoitra has probably fucking lied to him again, Grimmjow swears he’s going to kill the toothy bastard sooner or later. Except, the strangest thing is that he doesn’t feel the side-effects of the drugs in his body.

He runs a lazy hand through his hair, yawning, and suddenly winces at the sensation of a soft fabric on his skin. He lowers his hand to brush his chest and grips the fabric of the… pajama, between his fingers.

Grimmjow  _always_  sleeps bare-chested. What the actual fuck?

Confused by the unfamiliar surroundings, he squints his eyes and scans the room. There’s a single bed with a school bag at the foot, a desk with a modern laptop and also a bookshelf filled with textbooks, a chair with a pile of clothes draped over it, and several edgy posters are hanging on the walls.

Grimmjow takes a few steps towards the door and reaches for the doorknob, he opens the door hesitantly and walks quietly in the corridor where he finds another door, half-open. He pushes on it to open it further and enters inside a bathroom.

There’s a mirror above the bright sink, Grimmjow goes over to look in it, when he sees the reflection of another man staring at him.

A kid, he rectifies to himself. A fucking kid, or more accurately a teenager. He wonders if this is any worse and the answer is probably yes.

It suddenly feels like something has drained all the oxygen in the room, although Grimmjow is one hundred percent sure that he’s  _clean_. Clean as a white sheet and definitely a  _virgin_. Fucking hell.

A pair of warm brown eyes are scowling back at him, a few locks of spiky orange hair falling down all over. A couple of freckles can be seen on a reasonably long and thin nose and Grimmjow thinks this juvenile sight is actually kind of neat.

Maybe he's in some sort of a drug-related coma? But why his subconscious would show him the life of some whiny redhead brat?

He turns around so that he could look at his ass in the mirror and grabs it for no reason in particular.

“GET OUT OF THE BATHROOM PERVERT! IT’S MY TURN, I’M GOING TO BE LATE FOR SCHOOL!”

A minimoy barges into the room with the fury of a thousand suns and makes an attempt at kicking Grimmjow in the ribs while pushing him out of the room with the strength of an insignificant insect. Too shocked to even grab the brat by the hair and drag her tiny carcass outside of the room, Grimmjow doesn’t even protest the rude treatment and lets himself be guided in the corridor until a door slams violently behind his back.

What the fuck has just happened? Who the hell is that fucking shrimp?

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It’s the best dream Ichigo Kurosaki has ever had.

First, he wakes up in a giant bed with a beautiful green-haired woman sleeping besides him.

And second, he's definitely high?

Cool.

He tries to get up, only to miserably collapse on the ground when he realizes one of his feet hasn’t actually touched the floor yet. The room is spinning and Ichigo wonders if he’s having a heart attack because it feels like it. His whole body is sweating.

It takes him more than five minutes to get back up on his feet. The woman is still asleep, breathing steadily, and she remains undisturbed despite the thud echoing in the room when Ichigo fell on the floor a few minutes earlier. She doesn’t even react at the loud raspy sounds he makes when he tries to control his breathing.

He immediately searches for the bathroom, leaning against the walls or every furniture he finds under his grip.

All things considered, this dream feels a little too real and messed-up for his taste.

When Ichigo finds the bathroom, he instantly splashes his face with cold water, feeling slightly better until he lifts his head to look in the mirror where he finds a blue-haired man staring back at him with a confused look pinned on his face, and two light blue eyes with a green mark shaped like a blaze beneath them, refining his features into longer, feline lines. Definitely a few inches taller with a more developed muscular structure, Ichigo lifts an arm and contracts a bicep, big and hard as a rock. He also brushes the perfectly constituted abs and slowly lowers his hands further down, pausing a short instant as he shuts his eyes when he grabs his crotch, ignoring the rush of sudden heat warming his face and ears.

When he opens his eyes again, all Ichigo can do is watching the unknown reflection in front of him, mimicking his motions.

Why is he dreaming with the body of someone’s else instead of his own? Is this a weird repressed fantasy?

He takes a deep breath through his nose and splashes his face with cold water, about fifteen times more.

Leaning over the sink, Ichigo hesitates for a moment before lifting his head up again, but the same blue-haired junkie is still watching him with an expression stuck between astonishment and exhaustion.

Ichigo tries to keep his cool.

All he has to do is to close his eyes and wish to wake up with all his might.

He throws up into the sink.

 

 

* * *

 

 

A smack on the top of his head is what wakes him up instantly.

“Wha- What the fuck, Nel?” Grimmjow yelps, rubbing his forehead like he has a headache.

“Are you back to yourself today?” Nel asks, leaning on her pillow as she clicks her tongue in annoyance with a scowl on her face.

“Why did you fucking slap me?” Grimmjow growls menacingly.

“Serves you right after the shit I put up with because you were so damn high yesterday,” she answers brashly with a bright and bubbly voice.

Grimmjow pins her with the flattest look he can manage. “Okay,” he says very calmly.

“Okay,” Grimmjow repeats. “But I was fucking clean, so what the fuck are you saying?”

He doesn’t know what his own face looks like right now, but Nel’s annoyed expression changes with incertitude.

She then, rolls her huge hazel eyes with a sigh, as if it isn’t possible to be any more done with this entire situation than she's just then.

“First of all, you had no clue how to use your precious bike and we had to take the dirtiest bus with the dirtiest people, then we almost fucking died when you played dumb about your debt to Aizen but Harribel saved your sorry ass,” she condemns softly even as she's frowning down at him.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Because if you are, I fucking swear-“

“Oh, and you were nice to Ulquiorra.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“What happened here?”

Ichigo opens his eyes wide.

“Mom?”

Relieved to smell and feel his own bedsheets and his own pillow, he sits up. Ichigo has gotten used to wake up in a stranger’s body lately and he's now certain that he's not dreaming when it happens.

His sleepy gaze flicks over his mother, standing in the middle of his bedroom in an authoritative stance, with her hands placed on her hips. Then, his gaze wobbles on the rest of the room.

Huh.

It’s messy, and not messy in the way a teenager would wreck his room but  _real_ messy. Like someone full of rage turned the whole room upside down.

“Clean your room before you join us for breakfast,” Masaki scolds him with a still gentle voice.

“But-“ Ichigo gets out.

“ _Ichigo,”_  his mother cuts him off, glare sharpening, and Ichigo instantly goes quiet because he knows better than trying to wrong his mother.

“Don’t be late for school.”

Ichigo holds back a nasty curse, something he never has to do before and he slams a hand over his mouth.

His mother shoots him a suspicious look. “Ichigo, I know you’re… growing up.”

Ichigo arches an eyebrow, mentally wincing and praying that the cursed discussion about becoming a  _man_ , is not currently happening.

“Mom, please…” Ichigo mutters, he heaves a deep sigh and levels a desperate look at his mother.

“Emotional outbursts are probably normal at your age but there are lines that should not be crossed. Do you understand, Ichigo?” Masaki asks, and her tone is cautious at best.

He nods sheepishly, secretly relieved that the awkward subject will not be discussed today. “I- Right.”

“Right,” his mother echoes as she runs a hand through her pretty orange hair. Ichigo has always thought that this color suits her better than his and refuses to imagine her being mocked like he is because of it. “Hurry up now. We’ll talk about this later,” she adds with a considerate half-smile.

As she walks back towards the door, Ichigo starts to pick up the ripped posters from the floor and grunts when he notices the blank and boring walls. He almost chokes back some tears when he remembers how much of his pocket-money given by his father, these posters have costed him.

It has to be  _him_.

That’s when he sees  _it_.

A notebook is lying open on his desk with something written on a crumpled page.

It’s definitely not Ichigo’s handwriting.

**_“stop stealing my body or i will make your life a living hell brat”_ **

Oh.

Something else is scribbled right in the corner.

**_“fuck you”_ **

Ichigo smiles about as widely as he can remember doing in the last few months.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

When Grimmjow goes to get ready,  ** _“You’re the one who steals my body, asshole.”_** is written all over the mirror with Nelliel’s favorite cherry lipstick.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Ichigo’s fist punches in the side of his bully’s head and the dickhead collapses on the pavement.

He hears a soft  _crack_  and he doesn’t know if it’s coming from his knuckles or the jaw of his tormentor. He also doesn’t really care at the moment.

The dickhead makes a sound like a wounded animal and as he looks up, Ichigo realizes he has managed to bust the boy’s underlip who spits blood on the ground.

“I didn’t know you were practicing combat moves, Kurosaki-kun,” a voice pipes up behind him.

Ichigo turns, raising an eyebrow at a short-haired girl and he recognizes Arisawa Tatsuki. They share the same classes, but they never speak to each other since Ichigo usually doesn’t hang out with anyone from school.

“Huh? It’s nothing, really…” he shrugs, already turning away when he feels several pair of eyes from other people peering at him with a creepy interest. It’s a matter of time before a supervisor shows up.

“Wait!”

He stops dead in his tracks and slowly turns around.

“Next time, come at the local dojo with us and let’s do a few spars,” Tatsuki offers with a faint smile, eyeing him like he’s some sort of wild creature that may or may not be harmful.

Ichigo glances at her expectant face and feels a blush spreading on his cheeks. “I- Okay.”

He gets his first detention at school.

His heart squeezes a bit in his chest when his mother lectures him for half an hour. Behind her back, Ichigo spots the mimic clapping from his father and his two sisters.

When he finally goes up to his room, Ichigo’s stomach is still twisting with guilt for upsetting his mother earlier.

He sits at his desk and opens the notebook.

Smiling is probably the wrong thing to do right now, but he can’t help himself when he reads again the clever fighting tricks from  _Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez_. The man who occasionally borrows his body for some unknown cosmic reason, probably.

Ichigo grabs a pen and writes a huge  ** _“THANK YOU, I OWE YOU ONE!”_** on the next page.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 _Kurosaki_  is a pain in the ass.

The teenager is his complete opposite and Grimmjow absolutely hates the whiny strawberry.

Except, he can’t help himself and keeps sharing his fighting advices in that damn notebook when he switches his body with the brat.

Someone has to teach the wimp.

He hates this little piece of shit and his dumb little family.

The sudden vivid memory of Yuzu and Masaki’s dishes for their daily breakfasts, makes Grimmjow’s stomach rumble a little.

He grunts as he grabs his phone on the nightstand, he opens the notes app and starts scrolling through the last entries.

**_“Stop being a jerk to Nelliel, she’s amazing enough to stand your bullshit and she even accepted another shitty job, just so you guys don’t end up living in the streets. PS: I bought her a new lipstick with the money of your last stash deal.”_ **

“Fucking hell Kurosaki, I’m going to ruin you, buying hundreds of condoms and letting them drop from your backpack in front of your mom you, damn moron!” Grimmjow snaps loudly, clutching his phone with force.

**_“Karin saw you groping my butt SEVERAL TIMES in front of the mirror! Don’t you know anything about child molestation? It’s illegal asshole!”_ **

Grimmjow releases a massive snort.

He continues scrolling when his heart skips a beat.

**_“My cousin Ishida is kind of a spoiled rich jerk but his dad knows plenty of other docs who could help you so I took the liberty to ask for an appointm-“_ **

He doesn’t even bother to read the rest and he throws his phone at the other end of the bed.

“Grimmjow?”

Nelliel is standing at the entrance of the bathroom, holding a fancy suit in her arms.

“Are you talking to yourself now?” she enquires with a dubious look.

He glares at her, the words written by Kurosaki still echoing in his head.

“N- no,” Grimmjow answers in an unusual quiet tone.

“I just finished to iron this suit. You shouldn’t be lying around in bed or you’re going to be late for your job interview!”

“My fucking  _what_?”

He’s going to kick Kurosaki’s ass.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Somehow, the strange phenomenon has ceased, and the body switches have never occurred again.

It has been like this for six months now.

Ichigo thinks the entire universe can go fuck itself for letting this happen in the first place.

Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, the blue-haired junkie asshole who taught him how to stand up to his bullies, even how to stop being shy and socialize or ask people out, is  _gone_  and Ichigo feels like all his hopes and dreams went along with him.

He heaves a strangled sigh, his tired gaze drifting to the night sky and the pouring rain battering against the window of his bedroom.

Lying in his bed, Ichigo clutches the notebook as if his whole life depends on it. These exchanges (with an impressive amount of gratuitous insults every six words from Grimmjow's part) are the last remaining proof that this has never been just a dream.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Grimmjow is still staring at the wall blankly, holding the damned piece of paper in his hand.

Nelliel has left him.

Kurosaki has been gone for quite some time now, he doesn't know why and he's clearly pissed off at the universe for taking him away from him so brutally after making them share each other's life during some weird shit cosmic glitch.

Maybe he actually cares about the brat a lot and maybe it sounds fucked up but he feels like a piece of his heart has been ripped off.

He swallows hard as he tries to ignore the sudden empty space in his life.

His gaze drops yet again on the few shaky lines written on the letter.

**_“Grimm,_ **

**_I’m glad you got your shit together at some point, even if you seemed quite off over the last six months. Probably the treatment or your new job… I don’t really know why I never asked you._ **

**_Both you and I know that we’re better at fucking than talking anyway, right?_ **

**_You never really needed me, even when you stopped taking that shit, I didn’t move a single finger and I feel a little guilty for not doing so._ **

**_You did it all alone or maybe it was thanks to that Kurosaki person? You’re always grumbling about them in your sleep. And to think that you always mocked me when I said that guardian angels existed..._ **

**_Anyway, I’m leaving Grimm, please continue to take care of yourself. I will always love you._ **

**_Nel.”_ **

In what feels like a lifetime, hot tears burn in Grimmjow’s light blue eyes, and this time these are not rolling down on his cheeks because a ginger wimp is bawling his heart out, somewhere in this damned world.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Are you okay?”

Shrugging off the hand settling on his shoulder, the man looks up and frowns at Ichigo.

Those blue eyes are so piercing that Ichigo feels his heart sting in his chest.

“Yeah, yeah. Back off now!” the man snarls at him as he gets up with difficulty, gripping the wall behind him for support.

Holding his hands up, Ichigo takes a few steps backward when the man begins to stumble towards him.

“I don’t want to hurt you, I was just passing by when I saw the attack!” Ichigo tries to explain, his hands still up in the air to show his well-meaning.

The man scoffs at him and it sounds like he wants to spit at Ichigo’s face. “As if you could scratch me…” the man says with a humorless laugh. “These cowards were three against one and I didn’t see it coming,” he continues with a pained hiss when he tries moving one of his arms. “I guess I’ve gone fucking soft lately.”

There is something oddly familiar about this man, now that the reddish twilight light is reverberating where he stands. With a long and thin finger, he wipes the blood on his temple and starts cursing the word “fuck” a lot.

His gaze suddenly flicks over Ichigo who instantly drops his hands at his sides and stares at him incredulously.

“Good moves by the way but you could have snatched back my wallet with my damn six bucks inside, tch.”

Ichigo is practically sure he has stopped breathing for a good minute here, his heart is beating slow and hard in his chest.

“Do we know each other?” he finally asks after a long beat of awkward silence.

The man blows on a blue lock of hair obstructing a bit his vision and he squints at him.

“’Think so…” he replies with a weird flinch.

“My name is Ichigo Kurosaki, what’s yours?”

Blue eyes flash bright with recognition and Grimmjow thinks,  _shit_.

“Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez.”

There’s a growing heat in Ichigo’s chest. It’s like a chunk of black coal has lodged down in his throat, he swallows his saliva filled with the taste of ash and metal and anticipation.

The braided cords filling the vastness of space and time shudder all at once and the bonds of reality suddenly shrink around their corporeal forms, hitting them with a myriad of intertwined fates, flowing through their minds.

In some dimensions, they’re sworn enemies bound to battle against each other until death spares neither of them or claim a single soul. In some, they're not quite enemies but not quite friends, they mean nothing to each other and yet everything at the same time. In others, they find each other near nebulas or across worlds at the edge of far galaxies. Sometimes, they even meet at the very end, when it’s not too late or when it’s already over.

All the knowledge of these interdimensional alternatives fades away in a millisecond with a small  _pop_  because no living creature could ever bear it except the slight feeling of déjà-vu.

The bonds of their reality slowly stretch around them and the braided cords twist and tangle, but they connect again, taking back their initial shape.

Grimmjow takes a few steps forward and each fiber in Ichigo’s body is screaming at him to raise his arms in self-defense, preparing himself for a strong punch in the face.

A punch that  _never_  comes.

He realizes his eyes are shut when he opens them again, uneasiness growing inside of him, only to face two piercing blue eyes scanning him with a wide grin.

“What the hell are you doing,  _Kurosaki_?” Grimmjow leers exaggeratedly. Ichigo flinches a bit at the sound of his name coming from Grimmjow’s mouth, who dangerously leans closer towards Ichigo. as the blood is still spilling a little over his temple.

"You're not gonna weep on my shoulder, right?"

Ichigo ignores Grimmjow's taunt and notices the mixed scent of cigarettes and cheap perfume in the air but Grimmjow actually smells kind of  _nice_ in a strange addictive way.

He just blinks at him for a long moment before he reaches for his shoulder bag, searching for a specific shape between his fingers, he barely can see anything with the faint light from the lamppost.

After a few seconds, he pulls out a small creased notebook and opens it at a random crumpled and discolored page.

Grimmjow goes rigid. “So, you’ve kept it all this time.”

Ichigo’s shoulders hold up under the expecting gaze wobbling down over him. “I was afraid it would disappear along with you.”

Silence falls, thicker this time. Ichigo puts back the notebook in his bag.

“I broke my phone shortly after Nel left me,” Grimmjow finally says looking thoughtful and melancholic. “I tried to repair it, but that shit was already dead, so I lost your _annoying_ notes.”

“Nel left you?” Ichigo asks immediately, holding back a curse when Grimmjow shoots him a nasty glare.

“Yeah, whatever…” Grimmjow grunts, waving a dismissive hand in the air.

“I’m sorry Grimmjow,” Ichigo says, with a sincere tone.

Nelliel was the person Ichigo liked the most when he used to switch bodies with Grimmjow. She was weird, a woman-child in a funny kind of way, but she also was the kind of woman you wouldn't mess with. She probably had a good reason to leave Grimmjow and Ichigo truly hopes that she’s okay whatever she’s doing now.

“So, what else is inside that fancy bag of yours?” Grimmjow suddenly asks with a snort.

Ichigo shakes his head, disturbed by the sudden change of subject and his gaze drops on his weighting shoulder bag.

“My too many papers to grade,” Ichigo answers as he huffs a small laugh at the irony of his life.

“Shit, Kurosaki! You don’t make a damn sense!” Grimmjow exclaims immediately with a loud scoff.

Ichigo frowns automatically. “And what are  _you_  doing now, asshole?”

Blue eyes widen with surprise and Ichigo has honestly thought he would not live long enough to witness the shade of pink spreading on Grimmjow's face.

Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez is fucking  _blushing_ and it's not because it's Ichigo inside of his body.

That’s when Ichigo realizes that looking at Grimmjow from his own perspective, in his own body, is a total trip and he almost want to pinch his skin to check if this is truly happening.

Ichigo’s own brown eyes narrow with interest and Grimmjow clears his throat with a serious scowl pinned on his face.

“Nurse Jaegerjaquez at your service,” he announces, straightening to his full height. "I'll have to take care of that, it's superficial anyway tch..." Grimmjow adds as he absently swipes a few drops of blood on his temple.

“You beat me,” Ichigo smiles, raising his hands in defeat.

“Thought someone like me couldn’t make it this far, Kurosaki?” Grimmjow enquires with smugness painted all over his feline features.

“Never,” comes the direct and honest response from Ichigo, eyes gleaming intensely as the night is falling around the two of them.

Grimmjow might be a rude asshole who deserves to be slapped in the face more than it's possible but his shitty attitude has never truly matched with most of his actions and that's something Ichigo has quickly learned after each body switch. He didn't need to leave all those helpful advices in Ichigo's notebook but he did it anyway, he watched over his sisters and he helped Masaki everytime she needed help for something, Isshin scolded Ichigo everytime Grimmjow had forgot to put back on the shelf one of his precious medicine books left open on the couch in the living room. He fought hard to quit drugs and he managed to avoid the wrong crowd afterwards.

Grimmjow shifts uncomfortably but his idiotic piranha smile quickly reappears on his face. "I haven't checked on you by the way."

He abruptly closes the distance between them and reaches out for Ichigo's chin who widens his eyes and parts his lips in wordless surprise. Grimmjow carefully makes Ichigo tilt his head on either side and searches for any injury but Ichigo knows he's fine and maybe Grimmjow knows it too but he lets him takes hold of his chin without protesting. His face warms up slightly at the sensation of the delicate touch and he feels awfully self-conscious when two clear blue eyes continue their so-called methodical search right over Ichigo's face.

"I'm okay," Ichigo manages to choke out at last.

"I know." Grimmjow simply shrugs, still holding Ichigo's chin.

"Huh... then you can let go of me?" Ichigo says, half-snorting.

"Damn Kurosaki, your face looks fucking older. I used to- I mean your cheeks were a little more fleshy and you had fucking pimples popping out on your forehead," Grimmjow points out with a smirk.

Ichigo rolls his eyes trying to hide his embarrassment. "Says the dude who dyes his hair blue to hide his grey locks."

At this, Grimmjow straightens his grip on Ichigo's chin and then moves his hand to squish his cheeks with enough force to make Ichigo look like a dead fish. “Fuck you, they're not grey, they're blond and you know what Kurosaki, the color fits with my blue uniform and it highlights my eyes pretty damn well, you should see how they all fall for me at the hospital.”

Ichigo tries to speak only to let out a muffled sound so Grimmjow reluctantly releases him with a nasty sneer and Ichigo rubs his face in relief.

“You’re so full of yourself, asshole,” Ichigo mocks half-grinning and half-pissed off, trying to sound nonchalant although his mind keeps trying to show him a mental image of Grimmjow wearing that medical blue shirt.

“Jealous, Kurosaki?”

“You wish.”

Ichigo's mind is filled with silent thoughts threatening to make the world spin around him but Grimmjow suddenly tugs on his scarf until he can plant a hard kiss on his lips and, loses himself in the feeling.

This has been much rougher than Grimmjow has intended, his frustration at being brutally separated from the person who has considerably changed his life for the best, mixing with the desperate passion that he has been holding back for too long and culminating in a kiss that’s hot and hard.

Ichigo lets his shoulder bag drop on the floor before his hands clasp Grimmjow’s face in a tight grip, careful to avoid his injury. Reveling in the feeling of finally being able to touch Grimmjow in the way he has always so desperately wanted, Ichigo kisses back, matching Grimmjow’s desperation perfectly. He uses his tight grip on Grimmjow’s face and his hair to draw both of them against the nearby wall.

The dead end of this street is thankfully desert when Grimmjow pins him hard against the wall before one of his hands slides down to clutch at Ichigo’s hip who moans into his mouth as he relaxes to the touch. Ichigo feels Grimmjow’s hand moving to grope his ass and, breaking the kiss Grimmjow rests his forehead on Ichigo’s own, he shamelessly sneers against his lips.

Ichigo gives Grimmjow an unimpressed look, and a wide grin escapes him. Not letting Grimmjow reacts at his sharp expression, Ichigo pulls him back into a kiss. One of his hand tugs at the hair behind his head to deepen the kiss and he moves the other one on Grimmjow’s chest, searching for the zipper on his leather jacket and when he finds it, he pulls on it to rest his hand on the soft fabric of his shirt before lifting it to finally caress the bare skin under. Each touch is fueling the fire that’s burning in Grimmjow’s chest, until he feels like it’s going to consume him from the inside out. He makes a noise of pleasure at the action and presses them both closer.

They both kiss harder as they want to stay like that forever, lost in each other’s touch, in each other’s taste, with the mutual feeling of being finally complete in each other’s presence.


End file.
